Liam Mark Lowther

Light in the Darkness

My weathered hands began to shake as I reached out, slowly, towards the old wooden door, creaking lazily in the light, pre-dawn breeze. This has to be the place, I thought while checking diligently over each shoulder for any sign of approaching danger. Despite the dark, almost black, goggles covering my eyes I still had to squint as the sun hit that perfect, piercing point over the silent, vast horizon. The eerie quiet of the barren hills I had spent three nights traversing, now seemed to reach out hungrily toward me. Was that a whisper..? I felt a sudden unease from what I had, at first, thought was a benign gust of wind. I felt like prey being watched. Turning to face the drystone shack, which was beginning to crumble and lean away from decades of neglect and the slow march of crusading weeds, I took a deep breath and pulled.